Caught in The Rain
by candelight
Summary: A lonely, empty billionaire. An orphaned four year old Danny Fenton. Each day, the two look for the other. But they never say a word-until the fateful day the two are caught in a storm-and Danny offers a simple, but overwhelming display of generosity.
1. Chapter 1

Caught In The Rain

~*~

Every day without fail, Vladimir Masters-local billionaire business typhoon-walks to work past the town orphanage, in frost or shine. And, every day, a young, four year old Danny Fenton watches for him. But, when the two are locked in a particularly harsh storm, Danny offers a simple but profound kindness-one that will ultimately change his life forever.

* * *

~*~

^^ Hallo, everyone! After seeing a very adorable artwork on DeviantArt featuring these two in this scenario, I very much wanted to expand the sweet, wordless little tale that, regardless, says very much indeed. I certainly wish I could find it again....some of you may know the piece I speak of. If you happen to like this one-shot-and you happen to know the name of the picture (Because I certainly can't recover it) I would be very much obliged if you would tell me.

Please, take care, everyone!

~*~

Quote:

_Little stones make big mountains,_

_Little steps can cover miles,_

_Little acts of loving kindness,_

_Give the world its biggest smiles..._

_Little words can soothe big troubles,_

_Little hugs can dry big tears,_

_Little candles light the darkness,_

_Little memories last for years..._

_Little dreams can lead to greatness,_

_Little victories to success,_

_It's the little things in life,_

_That bring the greatest happiness."

* * *

_

~*~

_Tick, tock._

Her pen scratched dully at the form once again, pausing for a second as she reached for her ancient stamp, absentmindedly dotted it upon the nearby inkpad, and pressed the official seal upon the cream white paper.

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock. _

A middle aged woman continued to go through the numerous sheaves of paper with the slightest hint of a frown upon her visage as the old clock behind her continued its gentle, patient ministrations as it readily struck each second.

Soon, it would be time. After all-he had continued to follow up in his transition that had only started about late Springtime, every day, without fail. Marsha managed the slightest hint of a grudging smile on her normally stern complexion at the thought. The silly boy. She shook her head absentmindedly, and continued to finish officiating the adoption papers for a little girl named Ivette, absentmindedly leaving a signature here and there as her thoughts faintly trailed to the little boy once again.

The other orphans teased the poor child about it to no end-but, like clockwork, when the Children's Home clock struck Nine, young Danny Fenton would scurry up the nearby stairs, little feet hopping about as he struggled to make his way up the spiraled dome of the steep, stone steps. It was actually rather cute, to be honest. Accompanied by the old temple dully clanging nine times out the window, once could easily discern the newest ward of Briar's End's gentle footsteps as he hurried to make his way up to the window on the third floor, where one could easily get a proper view of the pavement beside the building some good feet equidistant below.

Why the child looked for him, she did not know why. Even twelve years of working with these youngsters did not teach her very much about the simple intricacies that underlined a child's mind.

She shook her head, lightly, and continued to her work, glad that today was a Friday. She had weekends off-and she enjoyed them most immensely. She glanced at the clock hopefully, knowing that half past five would be well enough time to pack up for the day, and head home.

At the thought of time coming to her once more, she smiled again, the bright eyed, little raven headed boy's face coming to mind. It never helped to get very attached to children in these facilities, as they usually only stayed for a short while (Pardoning little Danny's case) but she did admit a certain fondness for the little orphan, who carried a continuously odd multiple of habits, but peculiar they were, she did not suppose they were necessarily _bad_ ones.

Danny Fenton had only come to Briar's End-the local Children's Home For Displaced Youth And Adolescents-just last Spring. His parents had been ghost hunters of all things....and, after the boy's father, Jack Fenton, had accidentally forgotten to change the lab's....what she understood was called an "ecto-filtrator....." had mistakenly triggered a........

* * *

She shook her head ever so slightly. Those were not pleasant thoughts, at best.

The boy had had no relatives but an Aunt...who lived rather far away in rural Kentucky. It had been nigh impossible for the town officials to properly inform of the tragedy that had completely destroyed Fenton Works....and the two lives in the basement with it, or ask her if she would be willing to take the little boy in. Danny, according to the nearby neighbors, had been off on a playdate with his friend Tucker at the time of the incident. At least he had been spared.

Her forehead still creased ever so slightly.

The poor dear. At so early an age.....

She shook her head ever so slightly, and bent down to take a slight sip of her nearby tea, blowing lightly at the steam that still wafted lazily around the little cup before she took a sip.

Danny had been playing with his young friend at the park....before the echoing BOOM had resonated over the distance in a fiery wall of flickering emerald light, stunning the two in abrupt silence as Danny's young friend's ball had slipped from loose fingertips, and had idly bounced away as the two children stared at the enormous mass of green flames writhing about in the distance....

~*~*~

Danny didn't quite seem to understand-or fully comprehend-what had happened, even as a frantic Mrs. Folley had driven the two children home....only to be held back by the fire department brigade that was surrounding the general area.

But the truth finally dawned on the distraught little one when his parents' remains had been removed from the mangled wreck that had once been in his home....and, as he did in the nights when he woke up from a particularly vivid flashback of said event,

Marsha sighed lightly.

Danny had been brought here, as of a result. But, as was found in many affluences of society-many new parents wished to have a child of their own. Or, if they did decide to adopt, it was generally one of the _newborns_ that Marsha sometimes found swathed on the stone steps when she came to work in the morning. Poor things. Parents usually preferred to raise them first, as they affluenced more sympathy then the youth who were brought here.

Danny was a sweet little boy-but when people scheduled appointments to observe the children in their play, they often noted that the little, midnight haired boy was too quiet. Certainly, the boy was timid-and rather peculiar, but that shouldn't deter people. Right?

........right?

She tore a nearby sugar packet open, and carelessly poured the contents into her tea, reaching for her nearby spoon to stir its hot contents, faintly listening to Danny's small feet scurry up the stairs, as the clock chimed the hour.

At nine, when the one Danny looked for on such a daily basis began to walk to work, Danny sprinted up the stairs. And, at five, when the man left for home, Danny did so once again. Why, she did not know, but on the days that her clock simply would not start, it was a simple matter to listen to Danny drop his silverware in the floor above her (As Five o' clock was Suppertime) and hurry upstairs to look for the billionaire making his way home, and Marsha would know it would be time to leave-much as his frantic scurryings marked weirdly marked the passage of time- as they would do in the mornings.

As she listened to the sound of Danny's footsteps fading away as he made his way to

It was not a bad place, the town orphanage of Thornthicket. After all, it was where she had chosen to become secretary a generation or so ago-and, with a reasonable pay wage by the hour, could not complain about it thusly.

Still, she shook her head as she heard Danny make his usual route upstairs.

The boy WAS odd. The entire town knew that, for whatever reason, Vladimir Masters rarely tugged out one of his Rolls-Royces from the immense garages on his estate. Though the world-renowned ruler of a multi-million dollar empire that consisted of an enormous sea of companies could certainly afford having his chauffeur take him to work, the man simply walked to work every morning-and back every evening.

No one dared attempt to mug him.

And, after the man had settled in this small town-and had simply commenced his usual, sullen walk to Earth, it was easy to forget about him.

Much less care. What the elite did was their own business-and even the paparazzi could find little to no dirt upon him, much as they gave the grave attempt.

After awhile, they simply gave up trying. He simply wasn't _interesting _He wore black, spoke little-and, when he did, it was said to be in a stiff, short, brusque tone of voice that suggested he regularly lay orders-and expected them to be followed.

That was all.

But the little boy found him fascinating, from some bizarre reason or another. Why else would he hurry along twice a day to peer out the window, and look at Mr. Masters-a _businessman_-as he went by?

Whatever was so interesting-or what compelled the boy to look for him everyday, Marsha had no idea of its identity. When Danny had first arrived here-he had done little to associate with the other children. Marsha couldn't quite say she blamed him.

But, though he was loath to eat his meals-let alone leave the room at all, Marsha often noticed the boy peering out the window as Spring began to reclaim its reign upon the Earth.

And, even when he could occasionally be coaxed to come out from his room-and play with the other children, a trait that had now become a steady regular, much to her satisfaction-he continously felt the need to look outside-perhaps one or twice a day

* * *

_But, Marsha soon noticed, whenever she would join the child at the nursery window, and attempt to tug him to some activity, as it didn't do good to brood, that he would be staring down at the all too familiar sight of Vlad Masters making his way up the neighborhood to his office building._

_The third occasion, as she managed to convince Danny to color with some of the orphanage's little girls, the boy turned around, lapis lazuli eyes bright as he stuck out a small finger at the man's retreating figure. Marsha had to note to him that it wasn't polite to point as she hurried him along._

_Nonetheless, even as he had abashedly lowered his hand, his eyes had darted back to Vlad's form three floors away._

_"Who's that?"_

_Marsha had started, then remembered that Danny came from a different segment of town. Not knowing who Vladimir Masters was rather reminded her of someone blankly asking who the heck Walt Disney was._

_"......Vlad Masters."_

_Danny had been settled down at one of the preschool tables, and had been handed a small blue crayon. His little fist had closed over it, and had absentmindedly begun to scribble in a coloring book as he fired another question._

_"Oh. Does he liv' round here?"_

_Marsha had nodded as she stooped to pick up a discarded red crayon._

_"Yes. In a larger area of town."_

_Danny had pondered lightly._

_"Oh. Is that good?"_

_Marsha had shrugged as she broke up a dispute between a young blond haired boy, and a little brunette a few feet away._

_"Very-for him. He's a billionaire."_

_When Danny had only given her a blank stare in response, she quickly revised her words._

_"....that means he's rich."_

_The boy tipped his head lightly to one side._

_"....izzat good?"_

_Marsha shrugged lightly._

_" Again-for him. 'Rich' means that he has lots of money."_

_"So?"_

_Marsha started again as the boy threw her an almost skeptic glance._

_"So? He can buy almost whatever he wants. Money talks, Danny."_

_The boy had looked slightly distasteful at that-and a little confused._

_"Money don't....money doesn't say anythin'," he mused, beginning to scribble his badly disjointed rocketship again._

_"It's just money. It can't do stuff. It can't DO anythin' at all. It can't speak-and it can't walk or hug or stuff."_

_Was it just Martha, or did Danny sound wistful?  
_

_The blond headed kid absentmindedly cutting a small piece paper with safety scissors from beside Danny rolled his eyes._

_"Uh-yeah. Bout' that, kid-money gets you anything."_

_His violet eyes had sparkled slightly, and his fingers twitched lightly. Marsha mentally remembered the young boy's parents as being convicted drug dealers in the state-and very prominent ones, at that. _

_"ANYTHING."_

_Danny had only scowled in respone._

_"No it doesn't. It doesn't do anythin' but make people really mad. And sad. I think it's dumb to have a lot."_

_It was rare to have Danny argue about anything at all-so Marsha only threw him a bemused, slightly incredulous look as the young boy stuck his tongue out at Danny-who paid no notice as he continued to scribble._

_The woman raised an eyebrow._

_"Hon? The last thing you want to do is call Vlad Masters dumb. You'll only get yourself in trouble."_

_Danny had shook his head slightly, but said nothing as he glanced out the window once again._

_"Does Mr. Masters live with his Mommy?" he asked, peering at his rocketship with a critical eye as he began to dot the sky around it with stars._

_The young boy had guaffawed._

_"Dun' be stupid. Big people don't live with nobody but with what they like. And RICH big people don't go and live with their PARENTS-they live alone."_

_Danny had paused, black crayon slipping from his small hand, and rolling across the table counter. But Danny took no notice._

_"....nobody? Doesn't he live with nobody?"_

_The child next to him rolled his eyes._

_"It's ANYbody, you moron-and no. He don't live with nobody. He makes his OWN rules." Dash sounded lightly pleased with the thought.  
_

_Danny's eyes had flickered to the window, and then, back to Marsha's._

_"......nobody at all?" he quipped softly. "Is that why he walks to work alone every morning?"_

_Just how long had this kid been watching Vlad?_

_But, once again, Dash answered him:_

_"Duh. Nobody walks with Vlad Masters. He wouldn't WANT them to-cause we're just scum on his shoes"_

_He spat as he moodily pounded the clay still in his hands.  
_

_"And no one cares nothin' bout it or him neither."_

_~*~_

Ever since then,you could set your clock by this kid. Literally.

From what she understood, the boy had made it a regular past time of his to calculate when exactly the man came-and went. After he had been satisfied, he had contented himself with watching the man-rather like the old television the children were so prone to fight over.

He never called out to the man.

Never waved.

But he still watched.

Marsha shrugged lightly as she reached for her nearby coat still hanging neatly on its hook as usual, and glanced at her watch.

So Danny didn't think much of money. What else was there to note about Vlad Masters?

Shrugging again, Marsha simply reached for her nearby bag, and slung it over her shoulder as she made her way out the door.

The child was a dear, but an oddball. Ah, well. He'd grow out of it soon enough. Anyways, she had more important matters to ponder over.

As she quietly closed the door behind her, and glanced up at the late evening sky, she sighed lightly, wishing she'd brought her raincoat.

Judging by the severe vintage of dark clouds moving steadily over the skyline, it was going to rain soon-if not tonight.

* * *

~*~

The star strewn skyline was slowly being overcome by the opaque hue of a torrent of onyx clouds, drearily sloping over the diamond like sparks hovering peacefully over the world in a gentle, nightly veil.

After Danny had watched the man's retreating figure fade into the distance, he slowly popped his head back in, flinching as a crack of light streaked itself over the graying skyline in a flash.

Three, two, one-

**BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!**

Danny jumped, and let out a sharp cry.

As thunder roared over the wind whipping about outside, sending newly fallen autumn leaves scattering about wildly, the boy yelped, and started back, heart beginning to flutter in his chest cavity like that of a frantic butterfly, his hands pressed over his ears to block out the sound.

At least it had not yet begun to rain. As he had watched Vlad make his usual journey back home, his face impassive, he had noted, as always, that the man had not brought a hat or an umbrella. Hopefully, he would make it home soon enough, before the downpour would REALLY come down. Danny shivered slightly.

It wasn't the rain he minded so much-he'd always had fun splashing about in the puddles in the aftermath of a large storm, and it was always enjoyable for him to hold an umbrella underneath running water, and hear the soft _plop, plop, plop_ noises that were raindrops dropping dully on the canvas of the umbrella.

And, for whatever reason, twirling about an umbrella was good fun, too. Danny cautiously backed away from the window, uncertainly clasping it shut with small hands, wincing slightly as thunder echoed its wrath from outdoors once more.

Brrrrr. The child anxiously twitched, hands pressed over his mouth as he noted lightning flash over the treetops outside of the window once again.

Danny _hated_ thunder!

And it was all the more terrifying when there wasn't anyone around to deter it with hugs or giggles. Or a large bed that belonged to Mommy and Daddy to squeeze into on particularly restless nights.

The boy winced, and shoved the thought away.

Dash had been right in one way-and so had been Marsha. Brooding never got you nowhere.

With a slight sigh, the boy at last withdrew from the window, hand still clasped over his ears. After a minute or so, he slowly made his way to the nearby bed in his nursery, uncertainly grabbing a tressful of the sheets as he awkwardly climbed his way up, faintly wishing he had the phonebook that was always present on his chair in the dining room. Honestly, much to his consternation, he didn't seem to be growing as much as he would like.

...if at all. Marsha swore that Danny had SHRUNK half an inch or two just last measuring period!

Danny pouted lightly from underneath the cool covers, staring up at the dark ceiling as he did so. He winced lightly, drawing deeper into the pillows as he did so, squeezing his eyes shut.

_This_ darkness was better. It was one that Danny could choose to immerse himself in and out of as he pleased.

....though there would only be more dark around himself if he chose to dispell the illusion, but that was easily well ignored.

~*~

Danny wished that Matron or Marsha would allow him to have a nightlight in this place-one he refused to dub with the title that had belonged-and STILL belonged-to Fenton Works, regardless if it were now a hollowed shell of filth and grime on an empty plot.

Home.

But Marsha, though a kind person at heart-simply dismissed nightlights as being unnecessary. After all, children couldn't very well grow up with the assurance that a small, bear-shaped light would always be softly illuminating the room, gently lulling one to an unbroken slumber-as they'd only become all too used to it, and never grow out of it. Marsha had a habit of preferring that fears or bad habits would be nipped in the bud as early as possible. In her opinion, it was never too early to start.....which was why she put chili powder on Mikey's fingertips, to stop him from sucking on them all the time.

That hadn't helped very much, as Mikey had not only become quite used to the chili powder, but by now had developed a taste for spicy Hispanic delicacies. Ah, well.

But Danny still shuddered as he threw the covers over his head, willing the night to stop so that he could properly disembark.

He curled up into a ball, and bit the inside of his mouth to keep himself from making a soft squeak as the silence began its terrible ringing into the room, broken only by the occasional, resonating thud of thunder.

It was dark.

And it was scary.

And Danny was alone in a torrent of nothing. Shivering, he threw his pillow over, and tried to think of other, more pleasant ventures.

His thoughts vaguely drifted over to the man he had been observing for little other two seasons once more. His brow creased ever so slightly as he faintly recalled Dash's comment, as he had so often done after the kid had so brashly made his remark:

_"It's ANYbody, you moron-and no. He don't live with nobody. He makes his OWN rules." _

_"Duh. Nobody walks with Vlad Masters. He wouldn't WANT them to-cause we're just scum on his shoes."__  
_

_"And no one cares nothin' bout it or him neither."_

_"And no one cares nothin' bout it or him neither."_When Danny would come home from daycare, riding on his Dad's shoulder or holding Madeline's hand-the other parent was always waiting at home, occasionally watching from the window.

* * *

Waiting with a hug, an exclaimation over the fingerpaints that Danny had done that day, or a snack for the child to munch on while the two had took the time from their lab schedules to hear Danny babble vaguely about his day-listening to him as seriously as if he were an adult, which always made the child feel special before he meandered off.

And, at night, when the ghost hunting duo had tucked him in, it was usually fairly easy to drift off to sleep.

Because there was always the assurance of another prescence to be waited on or to wait for tomorrow. It was a lovely quota-and no one was left behind.

.........till last Spring. The two had gone.

And, seeing as how Jack and Maddie Fenton were no longer on Earth, HE'D most certainly been left behind.

Alone.

~*~

Danny buried his streaming eyes into his pillow, managing a slight sigh as he moved a fist towards his now runny nose.

And, with the loss of his parents, so had his life followed suit. Anything that had once been normal-any routine that might have ever been complacent in his life-!

Was soon gone. Gone into the ground-gone into the grave, and gone with Jack and Maddie.

~*~

That congruent loss was one of the main reasons why Danny had begun to look for the man he now knew was named Vladimir Masters every day. Did the man ever notice that Danny looked for him? Probably not.

But after Dash's aggressive point that Vlad had no one waiting for him-or no one to look at him, in spite of how renowned his was, in spite of riches-

Was he lonely? Could compassion be exchanged for a sum of money? Marsha had said that money talked. And money could get you almost everything and anything.

But it never seemed to make the man smile as he walked past the orphanage. At the very least, Danny had never seen him do so.

Did Vlad like to be alone?

Did he not care?

Would he honestly think of his fellow citizens as scum-like Dash so obviously claimed he did?

Rubbing his eyes with a soft, complacent sigh, Danny flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling once more.

He wished he had the nerve to wave-if just once. Maybe Vlad would look up someday and notice him trying to say hello.

But Danny didn't think he ever noticed. Or, if he did know that Danny looked for him on a daily basis-rather like a parade conchorus-he paid no heed.

The young boy wriggled slightly onto his side, clasping his stuffed bunny closer to him as he did so.

He never even had the nerve to be outside around nine in the morning, and five in the evening. Mechanically, Danny's body was well adjusted to know when the time came, and, were he playing outside, the boy would soon scurry inside to peer out the window, and watch the billionaire pass aimlessly by.

He wished he had the nerve to stay outside.

He wished he could at least PASS the man with a soft, polite, "Good afternoon." He'd heard them say that once in a book, and on the telly.

But, everytime the boy thought of doing so, his insides seized up, and his teeth anxiously bit his lip as his hands began to wring themselves.

.....no.

No, the man would merely give him a curt nod, or ignore him completely. Maybe Dash was right. Maybe the man was glad to be alone. Danny only wished he were so fortunate as to feel the same.

But it did give him something to look forward to, in his day. He liked to run up the stairs-and liked to watch Vlad slowly continue on his way to work and home, expression more then often inscrutable. Once, he had indeed glanced up-but Danny had scurried away from the windows in a flash, and hopefully, he'd escaped any and all notice from Mr. Masters.

It didn't seem right to reveal himself. But Danny took a secret pleasure in looking for him, and seeing him pass, just as he'd always done so. Even if the man were indeed indifferent to being alone-and couldn't possibly care less over what Danny did or did not do-it was a pasttime that had somewhere along the way had been transfigured into a pleasant obligation that he took part in by waiting.

He could wait for his parents forever. And, for a long time, he had waited for them, even after they'd unloaded Danny's few, surviving belongings at Briar's End.

He'd waited.

And waited.

................and waited.

But Mom wasn't coming back. And Dad wasn't either.

Danny hiccuped lightly on a sob, squeezing his eyes shut as the tears continued to spill down his now starkly alabaster face, made only apparent by the flashes of lightning that signified a BOOM following soon after.

But he could wait for the man. Vlad was extremely punctual-and had missed only a day or two of work for as long as Danny had been watching. Those days, he had waited with an odd feeling of dread in his stomach, feeling slightly anxious for the billionaire.

He didn't bother relating these woes to Marsha or the other children. It would merely seem odd for a boy to worry for a man he'd never even spoken to before-and even odder then it already was that he should look for said man.

But perhaps, that made it all the more better. Danny sniffled, wiped his face with the back of his head, and settled down on the faded comforters, turning to the side ever so slightly.

It was a gentle reassurance-even if one wasn't aware of it-that someone was looking for you-or after you, even for a short period of time. Though he could never confront the man about it-as if he could do so about anything-he hoped, in some pointless, roundabout way, it would better his day.

Feeling a bit better, Danny's heavy eyelids flickered once again, and the boy fell at last into a gentle slumber, breathing not broken by the night's resonating flashes and explosions of thunder.

Contrary to Marsha's expectations, it did not rain that night. It was merely static in the air.

~*~*~

* * *

But that was certainly not the case the next morning.

Late Autumn rain began to chorus down upon the world into a light sprinkle-then, into a hazing drizzle.

As the clouds continued their menacing dance around the horizon, they merely began to darken as the wide chasm of the sky began to gently excess the amount of water already pouring from the heavens into silver ringlets that flashed in the light.

But, soon enough, as the town's lamplights began to flicker out, one by one, the shower readily commenced into a ready downpour that continued on into the night, billions upon billions of raindrops bolting to the Earth in an icy downpour, wildly falling into puddles already formulating in the cobblestone streets, and, over time, widening into small pools trickling into the nearby sewers as the relentless barrage of raindrops falling upon the town rooftops continued.

It really made no difference to the man as he quietly peered out the window upon awakening, dark cobalt eyes gazing dully around himself in the dark before flickering over to the window.

Splendid. Rain.

With a slight sigh, the man stood, halfheartedly rubbing at his eyes before blinking blearily at the rain traipsing from the heavens outside of his window-upon the enormous estate grounds, well above the acres of town.

It was a pity he had to go to work.

....then again, perhaps not. After all, the office had always been his unwonted savior, blank and colorless that it was.

How fitting. Just as was life.

Vlad raised an eyebrow as he wearily made his way into his walk-in closet, routine steps so commonly executed that he was surprised there wasn't an enormous rut that hadn't been entrenched deep within the Earth from his regular business transactions that went throughout the day.

Morning-a light breakfast, a walk to work, arrival at work, answer a few phone calls, get his secretaries to categorize and manage some of the charting, check profits, attend several business meetings and hoped that he made his employees at least assume he cared about the cozy familiarity of Yomi that was his life, a small lunch, more useless and routine stumblings throughout his day, walk home, dinner, random meanderings, bed.

Oh, joy and carols of praise. His expression darkened as he glanced out at the rain still pouring about in buckets outside.

Well, he certainly wasn't going to ponder over his own pathetic existence-grandeur it was-at this point in time. He had a schedule to keep.

He managed the faintest hint of a smile, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.

........and an appointment, at that.

~*~*~

The maids had bowed him off, as usual-and Kevin, his chauffeur, had given him his usual plea for the billionaire to allow him to drive him into town-using the weather as an excuse this time. It certainly was vicious enough outside.

But Vlad found it rather difficult to care as he shook his servants off, as usual, and set himself upon his way, carelessly buttoning an onyx colored overcoat over his tuxedo as he did so, gloved hands in his pockets as a pair of shiny black shoes set themselves on the damp concrete.

* * *

_Concrete._

Again, how suitable.

Vlad would have ordinarily have scowled, but he kept his face well frozen into a hardened mask as he made his way down the walk-and past the elaborate iron gates of his manor.

Slight distaste resonated within the man as he continued his silent trek, eyes locked upon his feet as he continued his dull pace, not truly caring whether or not he made it to work on time. It was his company, after all-and, while he prided himself on being on top of things, this morning, he was feeling particularly monotonous. Perhaps it was the weather.

Or the shrill fact that he took pleasure from noting that his life resembled the same concrete on which he was walking. All the same, he would really be more accustomed to a more elaborate type-

But difference was there, once it was set in stone?

The rain continued to plummet, and Vlad continued his slow pace, vaguely noting that, as he began his journey into town, that no one seemed about. Perhaps this storm had deterred them all inside.

It really made no difference to the billionaire as he continued his slow, patient stride, glossy black shoes becoming steadier murkier as he navigated around puddles.

But perhaps he should have asked Kevin to drive him to work instead for a change. Then again, it would have looked strange for the Royce or for one of his limos to drive slowly past the town's children's home.

No.

His stride began to increase slightly.

It was one of the main reasons he insisted upon walking in the first place.

* * *

His life was a hueless calour.

Dull.

Plain.

And full of nothing.

Even before he had made his official debut as a pillar in the world of economics, the prospect of getting richer had sounded like a reasonable goal. And, for the first time in his life, it had given the man a reason to TRY for something in his otherwise meaningless existence.

So, he had strived to get to the top. It had been his main drive and accelerator for these past, miserable years.

But, although the obsession of GETTING and BEING there had helped define his character-one day, he had woken up.

Simply already there.

There was nothing left to try for.

Or look forward to.

And, while Vladimir Masters held everything, he held nothing.

~*~

His life was uninteresting, at best. He'd traveled the world. He'd set up corporations. He bought new delicacies-and enjoyed interesting prospectives.

But all of it had always been in reach. He'd never have to stretch far for anything, really.

And it'd become blank.

Mediocre.

Useless, really.

As the man continued upon his journey, he managed a small exhalation, pausing as he gazed at a reflection of himself in a nearby puddle.

* * *

It was blank.

All blank.

Sometimes, it made the man want to scream and throw things.

But the raging and desperate gnawing inside of himself was carefully concealed within an ironclad fortress that he'd worked upon for a wretched number of years.

Did he like things? It was hard to tell anymore.

Did he have opinions? He rarely used his voice unless necessary.

Was he a walking manikin that held nothing inside of it? Nothing but the hallowed chasm that reflected upon what Vlad had-and what he held:

Nothing.

~*~

* * *

The town treated him with deference.

But there was never any true friendliness behind it.

His employees were the same. The palpable shadow behind their eager smiles when they received their paychecks were quite noticeable.

No one trusted him enough to get within so much as an inch of what he truly was-which, quite possibly, could be nothing once more. It wasn't as if he knew how to encourage or entice people to him, outside of a bribe.

There was only one thing he knew he liked.

HAD something he liked.

But, for all the man knew, that "it" could very well be gone by the next day.

His fist tightened at the thought, and he quickened his pace, glancing at his watch as he did so.

His eyes widened, and he resisted the urge to walk, though he was now definitely hurrying.

He was going to be late-!

~*~

Little puffs of air escaped from Vlad's mouth in the hazy mist of the rain's barrage as the man hurried along. He prided himself on being punctual-and he never missed a meeting.

Meeting.

He scoffed inwardly. Neither him nor the child acknowledged their so called "meetings." When he'd first arrived in this stupid town, he'd merely like to walk every now and again for the excercise.

That was when he still had purpose.

_But, as his momentum faded, and, one day, he was making his usual way to work when he'd felt eyes upon him._

_The hairs on Vlad's neck had stood up, and he'd paused in midstep, eyes rolling slightly to the side to capture the object that had locked his attention, but he held his head at a degree, to make it appear he was still looking ahead._

_A little boy with a mess of raven spikes upon his head was looking at him-looking at him with cerulean eyes. _

_Perhaps he was waiting for somebody?_

_But, as Vlad continued to feel the child's gaze locked on him-and solely upon him, he began to feel, perhaps, a bit unnerved. _

_What was this child looking at, exactly?_

_For a long time, he could feel the child staring at his back, but Vlad didn't quite trust himself to move as the little boy only looked at him._

_Him, and only him._

_He managed to tilt his head ever so slightly, his own midnight eyes locking steadily upon the child-who didn't seem to realize that he was being watched as an unusual expression came upon his face._

_Was it sadness? If it was-it went away in an instant. The intensive stare the boy was giving him was...._

_.........affectionate. Almost....pitying._

_And an odd twinge reverberated towards the billionaire's chest cavity as he continued on his way, eyes locked on the boy the entire time as he slowly walked away, blue orbs deadlocked upon the other._

* * *

_That odd twinge had been in Vlad all day._

_And, he found, after taking a small sip of water while staring out of the corporate executive window, that he did not particularly mind it._

_Quite the contrary...._

_Vlad's eyes had narrowed slightly._

_It was an if-and a very strong if at that-but maybe the look in the boy's eyes that he noted-noted, but could not properly discern what it was-would not be gone if he looked upon the boy once again._

_That afternoon, he had informed Kevin on his phone that he would once again be walking._

_~*~_

_The child had still been there. That, or had been waiting for something again. Another twinge flickered faintly in Vlad consciousness._

_But this time, it had been envy. That one, he could quite easily distinguish, as he had felt it several times in his youth. That emotion had lead him onto his usual drive._

_Hence the word, 'had.'_

_But the child's eyes had followed the man, and a small smile had lit up his face. _

_Vlad had started slightly as he went past, head still bent so that he could properly get a glance at the child gazing at him._

_He liked the expression._

_It looked....right on the child._

_And it made him....pleased to have the simple resident of Briar's End look upon him like that._

_He'd made his footsteps shorter, and was glad that the boy continued to gaze at him. It was actually rather satisfying. Vlad wished he could trust himself to wave._

_But, soon enough, he'd had to walk away, as it would only look strange if he dawdled outside of the Home-and continued on his way, thoughts still straying to the little boy who'd perched at the windowsill._

~*~*~

And so, he'd begun to walk to work regularly. Once, he thought he would manage to wave to the child, but as soon as he began to turn his head, he'd noticed that the boy had hurried out of sight. Though his spirits had sunk considerately, he could not blame the little one for it.

Vlad didn't even know the boy's NAME.

He hurried along the path, knowing that the road past the orphanage was still a little ways away.

So what if the child happened to always be looking out the window when the man made his way past. He knew it could very well be coincidence, but, regularly seeing him at nine and five, he began to ponder the reason on why such a little boy would spend so much time looking at a street he'd seen plenty of times before.

Or...at him. Because, he'd noted that as soon as the child found him out of sight, he had a tendency to withdraw.

An odd sort of glow erupted in the man's chest.

Could the child possibly be looking at HIM?

~*~

Honestly, he knew it was rather sad to get so worked over something so small and as insignificant as a CHILD finding him interesting.

But still, the man walked past the building, not trusting his car to hesitate around the building for too long. It would only look peculiar-and suspicious. He had a much better chance of getting a brief glance at the boy by walking. Driving normally-particularly with a driver such as Kevin-would only be a rapid rush of color from the scenery outside of him. Far too disorientating.

And he wouldn't be able to have the child look at him with such a.....look.

What it was, he still didn't know-but it well reciprocated some of the gnawing creatures writhing about in his insides.

And he only wanted to see the boy more.

His spirits sank at the thought.

......if only he trusted himself that much....

~*~

* * *

_Splish, splash._

_Splish, splash._

_Splish, splish, splish-!_

Danny hummed lightly to himself as he kicked about his little boots, humming faintly to himself as he continued to make droplets splash about the world, quite glad that he could properly enjoy the weather thusly with a small, woebegone, but still in relatively good condition umbrella over his head, and a little red raincoat draped over his small features.

He sneezed lightly, sheepishly rubbing his nose slightly as he did so. He hoped he wasn't catching a cold.

The boy sighed as he cautiously extended a hand outside the canvas, feeling the cool tears drip from the corners of his umbrella onto his outstretched hand, and he withdrew the little palm, faintly wondering what to do next.

His stomach rumbled, but it was easy enough to ignore. Meal portions could only stretch so far with twenty nine residents at Briar's End, and Danny didn't eat very much for a boy his age anyways. Breakfast would come soon enough.

For now.......

Danny leapt upon the nearby stone, sending water cascading wildly into all directions.

A beatific smile graced his features as he whipped about, twirling the small parasol slightly about in his fingertips before splashing his way to the front of Briar End, still humming tunelessly to himself as he did so.

What to do next, what to do next....

Something began to brush against his subconcious as he scurried past the house, smiling pleasantly as Marsha smiled at him from a nearby window, supposedly "keeping watch" over him. Right.

The certain something could be ignored for now. As of right now, Danny was having more fun then he had had in ages. Most luckily, Marsha had indeed sensed the boy's keyed up state, and, after fussily bundling him up in old rain attire, she sent him outside as she continued to "monitor" him. Danny glanced at the figure visible inside the dark house.

Kinda looked like she was paying more attention to her computer monitor then she was actually monitoring HIM....

But that made it all the better. He could run where he would!

Joyfully, he began to hurry away from the large house, eyes fixed upon more puddles waiting in the distance-waiting to be splashed about in.

Leaping into a particularly enormous one, the boy's uncommon exuberance swept him away, and the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something could easily be pushed aside.

It couldn't be THAT important, could it?

Danny leapt about the smaller puddles, relishing the all too pleasant sounds that came from the puddles as his boots happily thudded against their damp exteriors, sending droplets spinning into the air as they did so.

Continuing to chase the large sea of open water available in the midst of the rain still torrenting the Earth, Danny moved steadily further from the building across the street, moving slightly up the path as he continued to delve into the rich treasure troves that made his heart leap.

But, even as he playfully splashed about the wetness, and noticed a frog ribbit slightly before hopping dolefully away, his brow creased ever so slightly.

He was having the time of his life. What could beat a good puddle jumping?

* * *

He frowned a bit, feeling a bit worried as he turned slightly to face the building on his right. He really wasn't supposed to leave the orphanage ground very oft-

_Tap, tap._

_Tap, tap._

_Tap, tap, tap, tap-_

~*~

The boy turned slightly, curious to see to whom the quiet footsteps echoing slightly from the sidewalk next to him belonged to.

And, he froze, already translucent skin abruptly turning a sheer alabaster.

He choked, and, immediately, after regaining some life back in his weakly shaking limbs, scurried behind a nearby tree, heart hammering as he did so.

Oh.

So THAT had been what he'd forgotten.

Barely a few meters away was Vladimir Masters, making his way down the intercity path.

......................and he'd paused at the sidewalk, his eyes transfixed on Danny's window.

* * *

Danny would have swallowed, but his throat was now far too dry. He swayed slightly, anxiously beginning to interlock his fingertips together as, at last, a soft silence only broken by the residue of the storm echoed through the rainy streets.

The footsteps-as they had not done for seasons-had come to a stop.

Danny began to shake slightly, both in fear, and in abrupt confusion.

He dared to peek his head around the corner.

~*~

Vlad had began to pass the home, much as he had always done so.

And, out of the corner of his eye, saw something that made him start, and come to a slight halt.

He saw nothing.

Now feeling incredulous, Vlad dared to get a better look, still not quite facing the actual building itself.

But he could tell enough that the boy was not there.

Telling himself not to be silly, he slowly turned his head towards the place where Daniel could often be seen staring intently at him with sappharine orbs.

Still nothing. The man blinked in bewilderment, eyes flickering slightly before they lowered to the ground.

.........

..............perhaps the boy had caught a cold? It was most unlikely for him not to be there when Vlad passed the building.

Where was he?

For a minute, the man felt slightly disoriented. He certainly wasn't used to schedule being broken-but this was more then that.

It was unsettling. The child never missed a day. He was quite glad of it-as it gave the man something to look forward to.

....but the boy lived in an orphanage. He certainly wouldn't have been there forever.

At the thought, Vlad froze, his insides locking down, and rippling from the unexpected blow that just tore at him.

.....had the boy been adopted?

Was he gone? He certainly wouldn't have taken the boy for granted, but........

For a minute or so, Vlad simply stood there, silver strands becoming plastered to his face from the onsluaghting rain as Danny peeked at him from the nearby tree, blue eyes enormous as he watched the man's shoulders....

Sag.

And, slowly, after a minute or two, the man reluctantly began to walk once again, eyes still locked on Danny's window, as if hoping he would appear.

* * *

Danny sank to his trembling knees as Vlad continued on his journey, the boy's umbrella falling to his side as he did so. The wind began to lightly ruffle the boy's raven spikes, but he'd paid no notice.

Shock.

Shocked-as well as completely baffled, Danny peeked out from behind the tree once again, eyes locked on the man's retreating figure.

Vlad had waited on HIM for a change. He had looked at the window.

And had looked for Danny. The boy swallowed, hands pressing over his mouth.

Had he known all along?

Danny hesitated, then stumbled onto the street as Vlad began to walk away, pace noticeably dispirited as Danny reached for his fallen umbrella, feeling anxious.

Oh, dear.

He'd missed it. But he'd been having so much fun-and, had never thought the man had particularly cared-!

Danny's eyes flickered with embarrassment as he watched Vlad continue into the rain, becoming more visibly soaked by the minute as the rain poured from the dark skyline without remorse.

He swallowed.

Hadn't Matron or Marsha told him that was one way to "catch your death?" Danny didn't precisely know what that meant, but it certainly sounded bad.

He took a step forwards, then paused.

What he was about to do probably wouldn't be particularly bright. It would hurt-actually, truly hurt-if the man did exactly what Dash had predicted he would do if anyone approached him.

He swallowed.

And, forcing up all of his courage, he ran forwards, breathing ragged.

~*~

_Splish, Splash, splish splash_

He had to catch up with him.

_Splish, Splash, Splish Splish-!_

Vlad's shoes continued to tap against the stone as Danny ran to catch up to the man's long strides, cheeks reddening from effort as he continued to sprint along, holding the umbrella awkwardly over his shoulder with two hands.

_Splish, Splash, -!_

The billionaire paused lightly-as if he'd heard something. Shaking the thought off, he continued on his way forward, not knowing that his face was set into a troubled scowl.

_Splish, Splish-SPLASH!_

"Oof!"

* * *

Vlad started as a particularly large splash echoed from behind. Jolted from his reverie, the man yanked around.

His mouth fell open slightly, but no sound came out.

There was the boy. Lying in a puddle, rubbing a small fist about his eyes, the boy moaned lightly before awkwardly standing up once again, his face a remarkable cherry red as he snatched up his small umbrella, face downcast.

For a minute or two, the two simply stood there, Vlad staring at the boy in amazement as he timidly stepped over to the man, and uncertainly tugged at his black coat before shyly extending his umbrella to the man.

For a minute, the man simply looked at it, eyes trailing from the small object in Danny's hands to the trembling boy still extending it towards him before realization stirred him, and comprehension broke over the billionaire in the form of a disbelieving, gentle smile before he slowly bent on one knee towards the child to better level themselves.

The boy was offering it to him.

~*~

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

He had reversed direction, and had carelessly called the office on his cell to inform him that he was...momentarily detained.

For the entire day.

Vlad continued on his journey back, humming slightly as the rain continued to beat down about him.

But never on him, and that was good. He managed a slight smile at the thought.

The boy's _splish, splash, splashing_ had already faded away. He supposed it might be difficult for them to do so when the boy's boots were no longer on the ground.

Danny lay awkwardly cradled in the man's arms, an arm thrown about the billionaire's neck as he struggled to hold the umbrella over the both of them as Vlad patiently made his way back to Briar End.

Not that he intended on letting the boy go again...oh, no......

Hopefully, if this Miss Marsha could give a few segments of her time....

* * *

The end. Wow, I'm mortified. I wrote something this terrible? D: Gomen nasai....

I think we all know what happens next. Silly, whimsical-and not making too much sense, but I guess I like it alright. It just gets kinda boring after awhile....


	2. Author's Note: Sequel Alert

Author's Note: Sequel Alert

~*~*~

Bonjour, everybody! ^^ Am hoping you're doing well. Have been feeling a bit under the weather as of late, but I believe I'll be just fine.

Anyhoo, am just leaving a notice for this story that-yes, I am planning a sequel for this story called, 'Sunshine After Storm.' It'll be awhile before I can finish, but I certainly hope to see you all there. :D

I was originally intending for 'Caught in the Rain' to be a simple one-shot. But the plot bunnies brought relatives, so I figured it couldn't hurt too much to begin expanding with a sequel fiction. It won't all be daffodils and daisies for Vlad and Danny, but to know Dawn is to know Dusk, and fair with foul. Plus, my lovely reviewers left me some requests to keep going, so, as soon as I clear up a project or two (I have quite a fair pretty going on right now, by the anyhoo) I hope to begin work on the side-shot/sequel.

Until then, adieu, my friends! Take care. I leave you with this small snippet:

* * *

~*~

_For a moment, complete silence. Nobody spoke for several moments. _

_But, feeling she was opted to, Marsha sighed in defeat, removed her glasses, and fussily began to polish the lenses._

_"....very well, sir. With Danny's consent….you may. Just this once. We do uphold a curfew here at Briar's End-and I shall fully expect to see him by half past eight. I will not have the child staying up past his bedtime."_

_The billionaire started at the woman's unexpected, sudden fold-but, even as relieved jubilation began to broil over in his subconciousness, the man merely bit his lip, doing his best to recant the smile that was threatening to break loose in his sudden joy._

_".....I understand, ma'am. Most certainly. I would not want such a thing to transpire, either."_

_Marsha smiled absently at that, but, adjusting her spectacles once again, turned to face the man with a heavy look that neither spoke antagonism nor friendliness._

_Just a warning. _

_At last, she spoke once again, taking another sip of her bitter tea as she did so, scowling lightly at the taste._

_"I shall do my hardest to…if not deter you sir, but advise you this: I will not make this easy for you."_

_She leaned over the desktop's mahogany, still looking gravely stern. For a brief, foolish moment, the billionaire felt rather like a guilty child reprimanded by an old librarian. He shook it off._

_Another silence settled in-but it was easily ignored as, at last, a small smile began to curve his features, said smile readily curving neatly into a ready smirk as he leaned forwards ever so slightly, hands still around the warm old mug._

_"Could it be, my dear Miss….that you are challenging me, of all sorts?"_

_Marsha granted a small, slightly smug smile of her own._

_"It could," she said idly, glancing at the nearby clock, and slowly standing with a sigh before extending her hand forwards to the billionaire. To her relief, he took it in a light shake, midnight cobalt orbs never leaving her right brown. _

_Marsha smiled once again._

_"May the best man win."_

_"I intend to, my dear lady."_

~*~*~


	3. Rainy Day Nerves Preview

Sunshine After The Storm

Rainy Day Nerves Preview

_Ma petit ange appelé Danny. _

Bonjour, everybody. I do hope you're well-and I very much hope you enjoy this segment. I have a few other projects to hop around with in order to properly update, but I certainly hope I can spend a little time with this little tale, since a few of you told me that a sequel to this little AU story would be appreciated. :D

This is just a preview of the first chapter-am still working on the storyline. It has a lot of holes in it, but I'd like to know whether or not this story is worth extending or not. If yes, then I will be glad to continue. If not, well....tis not too bad where it is. :)

Finals are coming up, so I'll be disappearing for awhile. *Looks determined.* Wish me luck, everyone! I'll do better then my best. And, as for my reviewers, who, as always, urge me forwards, hugs to you, and merci. ^.^ Please enjoy.

Just to clarify a few things-I do not own Danny Phantom. Don't even try playing the lawyer trump card on me. Secondly-as a few people have asked-nope. This is an AU fiction; neither Vlad or Danny have ghostly powers. Sorry if that sank your battleship...D:.....

Please, take care, everybody! Oh, and almost forgot! One of my reviewers, Sparteen-found the picture that inspired this story! (Get rid of the spaces between each segment should you like to see it. :) ) Thank you so much, Sparteen! I really owe you-I loved that pic so much....*Rubs eyes, looking shy.*

http: // BrokenDeathAngel. deviantart. com /art/ RaindropsKeepFallingOnMyHead -95540392

* * *

_Quote:_

_"And both that morning equally lay,_

_In leaves no step had trodden black._  
_Oh, I kept the first for another day!_  
_Yet knowing how way leads on to way,_  
_I doubted if I should ever come back._

_I shall be telling this with a sigh_  
_Somewhere ages and ages hence:_  
_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--_  
_I took the one less traveled by,_  
_And that has made all the difference."_

_It was....warm._

That was Danny's only thought as the small, raven haired child let out a soft sigh, and, still feeling a bit uncertain of himself, pressed his face against the damp, dark cloth he was currently leaning against as he continued to move along-though certainly not of his own power. He felt a light start from the arms still enclosed around him, but Danny decided to ignore it in lieu of his own pounding heart as he bit the inside of his mouth, feeling shy.

Certainly, he should have_ something_ to say to the man._ Anything_-so long as it was thoughtful and interesting! Anything to stimulate some sort of conversation. Adults did enough of 'polite conversation,' as Marsha dubbed it, like those wealthy people you saw drinking port and champagne at parties, idly swapping pleasantries before jumping to some more serious, boring....grown-uppy thing, like the weather, or politics, or what Marsha called 'Controversial Issues,' which sounded rather impressive to the young child-though he had no idea what they could mean. The word, 'issue' was extraordinarily difficult for him to pronounce as it was-let alone something as Impressive and as Ghastly-sounding as 'controversial.' He wished he might know what either word meant to have something safe to say to the man-something that would please him, something he was accustomed to. Dash had said that rich people went to parties all the time-and had polite conversation, though Amy, another maintenance worker at Briar's End-said that the wealthy preferred the term "social engagement," which didn't sound nearly as much fun or as easily pronounced as "party."

Was that why the man was so loath to smile when he went past Briar's End gates? Had he never been to a party before-only 'social 'ngagements?' That sounded very sad. Danny wriggled again as the two passed a corner, rain spilling down in torrents to the nearby gutters.

He COULD remember what happened at parties-he had had one for his third birthday, though not his fourth. Mama and Papa had taken him out to the Planetarium, and then out to a restaurant before Danny had come home to open gifts, (which he had happily torn through, seeing as he perceived that Christmas had come eight months ahead of schedule) blow out candles on a cake, and then, happily devour his slice while Mama and Papa had laughed-and Mama had wiped at his mouth continously with a napkin while he ate-as he was getting blue and green frosting everywhere, till Papa had told her to let Danny have his fun.

Then, when he had finished, it was time for him to be carried over Papa's shoulders up the stairs, feeling quite full before having a hot bath, a change into new Astronaut 'jamas, a story, and a kiss on the cheek from both parents after they had tucked him into bed, turned on the child's star-shaped nightlight, and slowly crept out of his room while he'd sighed, sank into cool covers with one arm around his stuffed bear-and, thought no more after descending into sleep.

* * *

Danny bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from making a noise, and rubbed at his cheekbone, hoping to pass the abashed scrubbing of a small tear off as a small scratching of an itch. If the man saw him cry, well....

.....he'd rather not think of it. Dash already insisted that Danny was a veritable crybaby whenever the small boy let loose-and he and his best buddy, Qwan-an Asian child whose mother had recently passed on-would take delight in tormenting the child.

What would Vlad do if he saw Danny cry? Drop him-or call him a baby? Danny huffed with indignity at the impossible thought.

He was four! FOUR years old! Four! When you held out a hand, 'four' was almost ALL of your fingers! Danny wouldn't have a full hand until he turned five. Then, he'd have to use another hand to count his years, (An unthinkable thought) then use one foot's supply of toes, then move onto the other. He'd run out when he was twenty-which, Danny estimated, would be in a good trillion bazillion years or so. Give or take.

Danny kept his arm tightly wound around the man's shoulders as he passed a mailbox, noting that the man stepped back away hastily from the road to avoid being splashed by a passing car going through puddle city. Did 'social engagements' teach him that it was not fun to splash? Danny LOVED splashing! There was hardly a greater pleasure to be found in the world-whether it was splashing, or to be splashed. But evidently, Vlad thought differently. The man shifted uneasily away from the road, turning slightly to protect Danny from being splashed as another car drove past-and then resumed his pace, the umbrella keeping the two from a worse soaking as the rain tumbled to the Earth.

The raven-haired child quickly glanced at Vlad, and swallowed. Although he would have LIKED to have been heartily splashed, the man had meant well, and Danny supposed that this was one of those occasions that adults would remind you to say 'thank you.' He tried to clear his throat-but nothing came.

He tried again. Still nothing.

The poor boy was, by this time, completely tongue-tied, and, still clinging to the billionaire's arm, could think of nothing to say. Not even two words could pass through his mouth! Feeling ridiculous, Danny stared at the concrete passing them by as Vlad continued to walk. The four-year old blankly noted that the sidewalk seemed to walk with you when you walked-and stopped with you when you stopped. Perhaps it was being polite, that way. Danny didn't know.

The child redirected his attention back to his...chaperone, as Vlad had jokingly called himself when he had gently-if not rather unsure of himself-scooped Danny up after the boy had offered his umbrella. Whatever that word was, Danny supposed that it was a good one. If it meant that he didn't have to walk back himself-with the very same man he'd been staring out the window at for such a long time......

Vlad was just as quiet as Danny had noted him to be when he walked past the orphanage's gates. He never skipped, never hummed, and never sang-like many of the children did at playtime. But it wasn't a BAD quiet, like the one adults used when they wanted to let you know they were angry at you, and made you feel all the worse by ignoring you-or, failing that, answering monosyllabically and abruptly.

It was the same quiet that Danny was feeling-though he didn't know if 'quiet' could be classified as an emotion. He thought it very well could be. There were so many things to ask or to say to Vlad-maybe some that would make him laugh or smile, for Danny remembered that Vlad had a very nice one when he had awkwardly scooped him up, to make "better use and wear" of the child's umbrella. Now, Vlad was silent-and was taking him back to Briar's End. Danny fidgeted lightly.

He wished that Vlad went to more parties instead of 'social engagements.' Maybe then he would smile more. But no-after the two had granted shy, anxious-but true smiles to one another-the silence between them was now only broken by the still pouring rain pattering about them as Vlad made his way through the darkened neighborhood, while soaked tree leaves began to fall from their branches, and flit to Earth from neighboring backyards. Danny closed his eyes, opened them again, and then closed them once more to ensure that he had the memory properly "downloaded" as it were, into his mind. If it WAS real, Danny was sure he'd never want to forget it. Ever. Though it would hurt when the man went away, and Danny could only go back to simply watching for Vlad every morning and evening-it would be enough to know that he had spoken to Vlad once-if only once.....

* * *

_"Hu-up! Up we go, now. My....you're....certainly not very heavy at all, are you, my boy?"_

_Danny had buried his face halfway inbetween his sleeves before shrugging._

_"....Um....I don't....know, but I don't think so either, sir."_

It had been then that Vlad had smiled at him again, and had begun to walk. When Danny had inquired on where they were going, the man said, quite simply:

_"....that little building is where you live, right, son? I believe....Briar's End?"_

* * *

He'd offered to take Danny back to the institution. It wasn't home, but it was where he lived....and, by now, he had to admit, Marsha might be worried if she had finally looked up from her books to note that he was gone.

Dash had no idea what he was talking about. That was NICE. And Vlad was nice. He wondered if he ought to tell Vlad that, or if the man already knew. He hoped that the man might already know, though he wasn't sure.

With the smallest hint of a frown, Danny recalled what one of his peers-a little girl named Margaret-talking about the 'creepy' man who walked past the building every day, even though he was more then perfectly capable of securing a ride for himself.

It was an odd thought, but Danny had never cared, nor minded that Vlad insisted on walking each and every morning.

But what he DID mind was that someone was referring to Vlad as...something as mean as 'creepy!'

He was pale-so what-he had very, very dark blue eyes-Danny thought they were nice-and he seemed....cliche as it was, dark. But it wasn't a bad dark. It couldn't be. It wasn't.

Even if the man could take a helicopter to work if he so pleased-it was good to see him. Danny had watched for him for nearly half a year with a small sense of duty. Now, he was quite glad of it.

He hoped Vlad knew that, too.

By now, lightning had began to strike through the skyline in a blaze of blinding, electrical fire-following by a deep, loud, BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM! resonating through the small town. Every now and again, Danny would start violently at the noise, whimper-and bury his head in the fine dark cloak Vlad wore draped about himself, held with silver fastenings.

The second time this happened-when Danny had turned to hide his dazzled eyes in a startled man's shoulder as lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a singular explosion hundreds of miles away-the man had actually paused on the cobblestone street, at a loss of what to do when Daniel had clung to him with a little hand, the other still awkwardly holding the umbrella over their heads while Danny discerned when it would be safe to come out again.

Vlad wondered-if not marveled-silently as Danny continued to cling vehemently to him like a life reserve after the man had silently began to walk again. Unconsciously once again, he'd tugged the child closer as thunder's terrifying roar and echo**-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM! **thudded through the area once more.

* * *

Drawing himself away from the safety of Vlad's cloak, Danny brushed his hand against the fine material, now _fairly_ certain that it was indeed real.

The entire situation seemed surreal enough as it was, and Danny was not at all certain if speaking aloud would not shatter the image of the man that could not be real, but WAS real-

Wasn't it?

He_ thought_ it was. Danny's blue eyes shifted to the man, whose midnight eyes were fixed straight ahead near the small shire of the neighborhood where Briar's End was located dead-center. Danny drew deeper into the man's warmth, the wet wool of the man's scarf tickling him slightly. He had to suppress a small sneeze.

He swallowed, wincing slightly. His throat was getting a bit sore by this point, and, to be quite honest, he was beginning to feel just a little bit queasy on the insides. It also didn't help matters that it was getting colder outside.

Deciding to follow in Marsha's advice, the small boy chose to think of something a bit more positive. It was then, with a small start, that Danny began to hear raindrops now bouncing off his extended boot-the one part of him the umbrella did not cover-from the faded umbrella rim, from his small froggy boot.

_Plip, plop. Plip, plop. Plip, plop. Plip, plop._

The small pair of green boots wriggled lightly as their owner was gently moved along, the rubber of the old boots squeaking slightly as they did so. The small boy smiled, and he thought-after curiously glancing upwards-that Mr. Masters might have smiled again too, judging by the twitching corners of his mouth. Pleased that he might have done something right, he felt encouraged.

Shy as he was in his current predicament, Danny couldn't hide another small smile as the lighthearted_ drip-drip-dripping_ sound from the raindrops continued to splash down and about the small spine of the battered umbrella. In any other case, Danny would have gladly discarded the umbrella to run giddily about in the storm, kicking playfully at puddles to listen to the continuous, _plip-plop_, _plip-plop_ of the water bouncing up into the air, only to splash down into the puddles again.

But he certainly wasn't entertaining the notion-not this time. He had a job to do, puzzled as he was about it. The boy hurriedly extended the umbrella better over their heads, and the smile faded away into the hesitant shyness befitting a small boy who has just been picked up by a near-stranger from the street. Afraid that he might have done something wrong, Danny's little brow creased somewhat nervously as he listened to the man's quiet, calm steps underneath him, exhaling as he did so.

The boy swallowed past the lump in his throat, as a pair of gloved hands unconsciously squeezed him reassuringly while Danny awkwardly tilted the small umbrella to better cover both of their heads from the onslaught of the still downpouring rain.

The sky had grown remarkably darker by this point, and the air was much chillier then before as the rain continued to shoot downwards. Small goosebumps were littering Danny's pale flesh underneath the thin material of his worn raincoat, and, now and again, Danny would let out a soft sneeze. Vlad now simply said 'Gesundheit' to him softly-whatever that meant-and, after awhile, had offered his handkerchief to the boy with a small, amused smile-but had said little else to the child after that. Was he anxious to go to work? Would he be very late?

Danny pushed his hands underneath his chin again as the two passed Mrs. Cleary, one of Briar's End's neighbors-who had gaped at the two, but Vlad hurried them away from her sight, so, much to the boy's relief- the two were left alone again.

At last, Danny spoke once again, breaking the silence with an awkward sigh.

"Um...ah....sorry."

He stared directly ahead of himself, determinedly looking at the ground, now, Briar's End was now just a few miles away-and, to be quite frankly honest, Danny didn't really want to think about it. For now, it was enough to experience the odd, almost forgotten sensation of being held; being held in the rain, and to listen to the selfsame steps Danny had listened for for almost a year, now-just outside of his window.

After a moment, the billionaire spoke.

"....whatever for?"

The words were hurried, as if the man had not known quite how to say them, or phrase them any more elaborately.


	4. Chapter 4

Answering a promise I'd made some many months ago, yes, I have returned. Cheers to DeadlyDaisy, for without her moving me in a message, I wouldn't have been prompted to write out an actual plot for this story of mine. And hugs and admiration to pearl84, who gave me some stellar tips on how to improve my writing style.

Thank you!

* * *

There was an enormous, black fountain bubbling in the courtyard. He could see an enormous chandlier with tear-shaped diamonds twinkling from a nearby window-and another from the second floor.

The Masters' estate looked like one of the castles in the storybooks that Marsha sometimes read to Danny at bedtime, regardless of whether or not the boy paid attention. But he was fairly certain that Rapunzel's tower, while in a pretty forest and covered with flowery vines and made from sparkling stones, hadn't been nearly _this_ elaborate. Surely no one lived _here_, in this enormous place!

Danny fidgeted, face paling slightly in the cool, early afternoon air, and feeling the man's gaze slowly turn to him again. Now even more nervous, Danny started to admire his gleaming, beautifully squeaking boots once again.

"Everything alright, Daniel?"

Vlad sounded concerned; Danny nodded quickly, paused, slowly shook his head, and then nodded once again, emphatically.

"No. I-I mean, yes. I, um...d'you really live in..._there_?" He extended a finger towards the house as if it had been guilty of causing him some wrongdoing.

Mr. Masters slowly raised an eyebrow, and then, a small smile curled his features as his gloved hand started to rummage in his trenchcoat pocket, other arm still carefully holding Danny and his tiny umbrella at his level.

"Yes, child, I do. It isn't much, but ever it be so humble..." with a flourish, the man smiled, momentairly with an expression akin to that of a well-fed cat. Danny stared at him, bewildered.

_Humble?_ Perhaps 'humble' like Dash or Paulina were at the Children's Home. If this place could talk, it probably wouldn't even bother to, at least not to someone small and insignificant like _you_.

The large, onyx gates the two were standing in front of were connected around the sullen and lovely building by a large, iron-clasped fence that circled quite a large circle around the space, keen to make as much space as possible from the house and its dimwitted visitor. The fence was enormous, looking grim and cross with their pointy...sticking up things all around the top of the fence. It rather reminded him of a picture he'd seen from a storybook called _The Selfish Giant_, about a mean man who kept his fruit garden locked up tight so that small children wouldn't play inside.

All the while Danny had been pondering, Vlad had been talking.

"I suppose Miss Marsha won't mind if you're detained another few minutes or so, Daniel? You're soaked to the bone, and we must get something for that scrape of yours..."

He sounded hesitant; uncertain. Danny turned around absentmindedly, not quite having heard what the man said.

"Mmm? Um, no?"

There was that smile again on Vlad's face, but Danny had turned his attention back to the dark, elegant spire from one of the towers. Out of the corner of his eye, he faintly noticed Vlad drawing out a little square box out of his pocket, and pressed a large blue square on it.

_Crrreeeeaaaakkkk._

The gates slowly began to open, sounding as miserable as if they'd been awakened from a nice sleep. Once they'd fully opened, Vlad slowly walked inside yard, and Danny realized for the first time that they were heading inside. Danny held his umbrella a little higher, puzzled. Mr. Masters had said that he was only going to get his phone to call Marsha...which, seemed a little peculiar to the boy, considering Briar's End was just half a block away...

But he supposed he was in trouble enough as it was. He'd probably be sent to bed without dinner again for wandering off, even though Marsha had never told him to come back when he was playing in the yard. And it wasn't as though Vlad were a stranger...he'd known him for a few weeks, now.

..._okay_, perhaps they'd never spoken to each other prior to this day, but bygones. However, he still felt nervous approaching this place, which seemed ready to eat them both as Vlad slowly carried Danny up the stone steps, starting slightly as a bolt of lightning flashed over the building. Perfectly cliche.

But with a yelp, eyes dazzled, the boy hid his face in Vlad's neck at the deafening BOOOOOMMMMMM! that followed. Looking slightly alarmed, Vlad hesitantly drew a hand towards the small boy's back, then just as quickly withdrew it before the main door opened, and the man stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

A young man with chestnut hair, a small scar above his right eye, slightly sallow skin, and violet eyes courteously opened the door with a small nod as Vlad entered.

"Welcome back, sir! I must admit, I was rather surprised that you'd returned home quite so-well, _hello_, who's this then?"

Danny, still clinging to the dripping man like a tick, only withdrew deeper in the collar of the wet wool. Looking uncomfortable, Vlad only gave him the slightest of awkward pats on the back before kneeling, trying to pry the boy away as he kneeled.

"Andrei, this is-_mrph!" _(What was this child, part koala?) "Daniel. The boy had a little accident running in the street this morning; he's got a little cut on his knee. Would you mind calling Jane to come out and take a look at it?"

Andrei had been staring at the kid that was now peering at him from behind the Master's overcoat, but now managed a small, puzzled grin.

"Absolutely, sir. And hello, there, Daniel!"

"Danny," came the somewhat muffled correction from the depths of a damp scarf. The tuxedo-clad man smiled.

"My mistake. Ooch, looks like you've got yourself a bruiser, there! I've got a little girl about your age, son. She usually cries when she gets herself a scratch, but you're handling it quite nice-"

Vlad cast the man an appraising look, which silenced him immediately.

"Andrei. My cloak. And Jane."

The young man started, and, with a strange pallor coming over his face, as though he were blushing hurriedly helped the man out of his coat, finally managing to pry it away from Danny's fingertips before hastily bustling it to a nearby closet that looked as big as Danny's bedroom at home before hurrying back for Danny's raincoat, umbrella, and boots. Bemused, Danny plopped on the ground, and proceeded to remove his slightly too-large boots, hoping Andrei might give him another smile.

But no-now the man didn't so much as look at him before hurrying off once again, this time, bustling out of the shiny foyer with the big chandelier, out of sight. Danny hadn't done so much as throw a slightly annoyed look at Plasmius-he certainly hadn't talked to the man very nicely-before an aged, red-haired woman came out a nearby door, curtsying like they did on the TV.

"Mr. Masters? Tea is waiting in the parlor. And, Master Danny?"

She had a Scottish accent; curious, Danny looked around the large foyer, wondering to whom she was talking to. The woman laughed slightly when the boy found no one else.

"Ah...I mean YOU. Come along, dear," she said gently, turning a motherly, kind face down to the small boy's before she reached for his hand. "We'll get something for that little owie of yours."

* * *

So very rarely did Briar's End ever had a fire going in the fireplace; Marsha had had it bricked up this very Winter, claiming that it was a hazard to the children, and that the electronic heating was sufficient enough.

Admiring the milky-white marble of the shining hearth, a now snugly bandaged-Danny far, far more admired the roaring blaze crackling inside of it, extending his small hands out to the flames as far as he could reach from his very large chair, which seemed quite intent on eating him one way or another. Regardless of how he positioned himself, he only continued to sink further and further into the pillow. Across from his seat, Vlad was watching him while sitting an identical chair, trying not to laugh.

The parlor was nice enough-or would have been, if not for the grisly and very scary deadheads and hunting trophies staring lifelessly from the walls, some growling in exaggerated, feral expressions of rage. Danny had felt his eyes water up simply by looking at them, and now kept his eyes down at the flames, or at the small, comforting cup of warm milk and honey in his hands-a rare treat.

Vlad slowly stirred the contents of his dark tea, and cleared his throat after a few moments of peaceful stillness. While the air between them was neither tense or awkward, he was certainly left...well..._unprepared_, at best. At all of his social engagements, regardless if he cared a farthing for them or not, the man went so far as to research the guests attending said event beforehand, mentally preparing responses to expected questions, inventing interesting and engaging comments that could be applied to practically any given situation to steer the conversation to a higher level, and fool business associates into believing he cared.

He never had to give such regard for his servants, but of course, they were simply that: _servants_. Less than colleagues. If they didn't exist, surely others would be in their shoes, equally about as worth of regard as any other fancy appliance he had in his home.

Vlad lowered his teacup to the saucer, molding his expression to that of the relaxed host: Content, nonchalant, and vaguely curious. Yes. Yes, that would fit-for he wasn't a man who prided himself on his spontaneity.

"Now that the formalities have been exchanged, I would very much like to know...if you happen to know whom I am, Daniel?" he asked gently, motioning that the boy should take a biscuit from the silver tray on the coffee table.

Mouth now full of warm biscuit, crumbs scattered on his chin, Danny sent a bemused glance over at the billionaire, using his sleeve to wipe at his mouth as he swallowed.

"Y-yeah." He had to take a swig of milk to chase the honeyed crumbs from his throat. "You're Mr. Masters. Except that you told me to call you Vlad if I wanted, which is kinda cool, cause you're a grownup, and Marsha says that I'm not s'posed to call grownups by their first names. Marsha says she doesn't mind me saying her name, though, only because she's Marsha, and that's different. But a lot of grownups don't seem to have names. I think that they should get some."

Vlad blinked, slightly taken aback at the quiet little boy's little rant. He certainly was..._articulate_ for a four year old...

But Danny, after taking another sip of milk, was at it again.

"'Cept I think I might, um, keep calling you Mr. Masters. Cause everyone calls you that in Bria-"

Danny broke off, suddenly shy again. Hadn't Marsha told them all that talking behind people's backs wasn't nice? Only it hadn't been MEAN...mostly. Mostly, a great deal of speculating from the staff bemoaning their low ages, and speaking enviously of the man's brand-new...Porsche (Whatever that was) cruising through town.

Vlad's stare was now fixated on Danny. Now feeling a little uncomfortable, Danny started kicking his legs, which dangled a foot or so off the ground, searching desperately for a new conversation topic.

"You have a very nice house." Actually, he thought it was sort of like the gloomy one he'd seen on TV during an _Addam's Family_ rerun, but wouldn't Marsha be smiling at how polite he was being? "It's big, much bigger then Briar's End. Did it cost six dollars?"

Vlad only blinked at him for a moment or two, still a little take aback. But to his surprise, he felt himself beginning to smirk.

"Thank you, my boy. I'm glad you like it-and perhaps just a little more than that."

Danny drew in a deep breath. More then that?

"Seven dollars?"

"Maybe a mite more."

"_Eight_?"

"You're nearly on the dot..."

"_Nine_?"

"I believe so. Give or take."

Danny's goggled expression was rather cute. Vlad smirked again, which surprised him once again. The attachment he'd felt for his personal wealth and belongings had waned long ago.

Danny slowly shook his head, still in awe.

"_Wow_." 'Wow' didn't seem to cover it. Dash had said that having lots of money made for a very happy man. While Danny had heartily disagreed, Vlad seemed fairly happy...

...except for his eyes. Those belonged to a sad old man's, though Vlad looked a little younger then Santa Claus, and perhaps even a bit younger then Marsha.

Vlad leaned back in his seat, comfortably reclined; imperious.

"Hmm. Perhaps. But I AM rather interested in what you said earlier, Daniel. Tell me, how do they speak of me in your home?"

Judging by the look on Danny's face, Vlad had wished he hadn't asked. Of course, he wasn't surprised, considering that while he'd never done them a lick of harm-

"I think you're nice."

Dumbfounded, Vlad simply sat there for a moment, just a little incredulous. Danny's voice was abrupt; almost a little indignant. His blue eyes were glittering from the firelight flickering inbetween the two.

Vlad looked at him for a moment, but his eyes quickly cooled. However, his appreciative smile was warm.

"Well, thank you very much, Daniel. I'm glad."

He did not care. Nor would he tell himself he ever would. Not yet.

After a moment's uncomfortable silence, after Danny's eyes had strayed to one of Vlad's grandfather clocks, the billionaire thought it safe to talk again.

"So, it seems we've been neighbors for some time, now. I wonder why we haven't talked-before now?"

Vlad was too busy admiring his own interlocked fingers to look directly at the boy again.

Danny didn't respond. Growing impatient, and still slightly anxious, Vlad began to speak again:

"I believe I may have glimpsed you once or twice at Briar's End...maybe...through a window? In your yard? On the street?"

So the man HAD noticed him! Danny's heart started beating the way it did when Danny ran, hopped, skipped, or jumped. He gulped, suddenly feeling butterflies in his tummy-and lots of them.

But before his mouth went entirely dry, he blurted out: "Yes! When I look outside, I look for you. All the time. I don't miss it."

Suddenly, Danny's face went scarlet, and the boy quickly looked at his cup, and hurriedly drank the contents of it all, spilling a little down his front. He turned his eyes to the flames again, not daring to look back up.

Silence. Then-

"...ah. Well. I think I might have seen you...perhaps once or twice, but scarcely more then that. I never really noticed."

Vlad mentally slapped himself for the lie; but he'd never, ever stoop to being quite so pathetic as to deliberately walk past a certain point OUT OF HIS WAY to see a small boy waving to him from a window! It was creepy, it was sad, and it was pointless.

...though the knowledge that someone had gotten up in the morning to see HIM off was phenomenal, and knowing that someone had looked for him before bedtime was also...strangely endearing. The boy's words were sincere, spoken very much like a man he'd once known, who'd been painfully honest about everything.

Absolutely everything.

Vlad's hands tighted around the frail porcelain, his hand shaking so much that he almost shattered the china. But he forced himself to composure, and looked up...

To find, to his horror, Daniel's eyes swimming with tears.

Danny wrapped his arm around his tummy, now feeling sick. Of course. He should have known better. He told himself for a long time that the man hadn't noticed, or cared, like he'd dreamed he had. What had he done, other then waste hours in front of a window like a weirdo for someone he'd been too shy to talk to? Who'd always wind up going away?

...like Momma and Daddy had?

Vlad stared at the tears slowly oozing out of Danny's eyes, distraught. Heavens. He was sure it was certainly nothing to cry about, though he hadn't really known what he would have done if the boy had commented that he'd never even noticed the man prior to this day. That would have been...awful. Simply awful.

But the man had been an only child; he knew absolutely nothing about children. So what was he supposed to do, now?

With a sigh, Vlad stood up, withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket, and proceeded to wipe at the boy's face, although Danny abruptly threw up his arms to protect it. The billionaire rolled his eyes. Little boys.

"Daniel?"

Danny didn't seem to hear him. Vlad sighed.

"Daniel, forgive me if I spoke carelessly. I didn't mean that I never noticed you, or wasn't glad that you were there."

Through the mask of hands on his face, Danny peeked out slightly by lifting a finger. Encouraged, Vlad went on:

"In fact, I'm flattered to know that you waited for me. I only wish we'd spoken before...but why, may I ask, did you wait for me?"

"Cause you wanted me to. And I liked seeing you."

Aghast, the man immediately drew back, before his poker face smoothly slid back on.

"I believe you're under a misapprehension, dear boy. We never spoke before today, remember?"

Danny rubbed wearily at his eyes, looking exhausted.

"Yeah, well, I felt it. You looked like me."

Now, the man's face truly matched how he felt: Positively blank.

Frustrated, Danny abruptly shook his head.

"No! No! Not _like_ me, but LIKE me. I felt it. Inside. I can't..." his face screwed up in concentration, "Really...say...what the like _is_, but it's hurting you, too. But it's not bad," he insisted. "Not really bad. M-Mummy would have said so."

Vlad slowly slinked back to his seat, moving away from stranger waters. Clearly, the boy had no gist of what he was saying. Though he HAD brought up his mother, something the man was very interested in about. Now just to creep over to that...

"I see. Well! Daniel, do you have any hobbies?"

Danny stared blankly back at the man. The man snorted.

"I mean, what do you do for fun?"

Oh. Danny blinked, and then let a reluctant smile grow on his face.

"I like to splash in puddles. And play with Bingo."

"Who's Bingo?"

"The dog who lives us at Briar's End. Though Marsha doesn't like that he does, none of the staff would let her take him away. I'm glad they won't...James says if he goes to the kennel, they'll take him to the 'back room.' Is that very very not good?"

The man said nothing. Daniel went on:

"I didn't like the way he said it. Anyway, Bingo is a big, old, fuzzy Mountain Dog, or something like that. He's really old-older then I am! Marsha says he's pushing up daisies in human years, which I don't get, but all he really likes to do is sleep all day. I don't think he's ever...ever bite anyone-he too nice. I can ride on him sometimes when he gets up to walk around the house, and Marsha doesn't start yelling at me for it. Sometimes, he'll fetch a ball, but only one time. Then, he just lies down and goes to sleep. And when you try to wake him up, its like poking a stick at a dead bug. Nothing happens."

Cringing slightly, Vlad still smiled.

"Interesting fellow. But what else d'you like to do?"

Danny shrugged as he happily accepted another cup of hot milk from Vlad, helping himself to a cookie on the plate. He was scarcely this hungry back at the Children's Home...

"Sometimes, I read. Marsha says that I can't much, really, but I can," he insisted. "Sometimes I play with the other kids. But they not like me very much."

And with that, Danny withdrew back into his seat, sinking a few more inches, looking quite done with the conversation. But Vlad only leaned forwards, expression intense. No. He still had yet more to ask:

"I find that difficult to believe. Why do you think that?"

Danny's shoulders slowly rose and fell.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because Dash."

Vlad frowned.

"'Dash?' What are you-"

Danny started kicking his feet again, looking moody.

"Dash not like me. He's a big kid-and everyone likes him a lot. Marsha tells all the parents who come by how at...oth...good at running and stuff he is. She never says anything about me-she just looks at me 'fore she starts whispering to them. And people look at me funny, or not at all. I'm glad that they do, though. It is just that Dash is mean. Everyone thinks he is so nice, but one time, he put a scary toy bug in his own bed, and told Marsha I did it, so I had to go to bed early, and say 'I'm sorry' in front of everyone. Then, he put all of his peas on my plate when I not looking and takes my cookie. But he said to Marsha that I already eated my cookie, so I got put in time out. And then, one day, in the sandbox-"

But Danny cut off, refocused his attention on his new biscuit, and didn't finish. Vlad stared soberly at him for a moment or two.

"Why does he dislike you so?"

Danny shrugged again.

"Have you tried talking to anyone else about that?"

"They no listen."

"So what do you do when he's around?"

"Hide."

"That's not good."

"No."

This was going nowhere. Vlad opened his mouth, about to offer his consolations, and then-

"Do you have a best friend at the Home, Daniel?"

Danny shifted in his chair, looking sleepy. And sad.

"No at Briar's End. My best friend Tucker's away."

"Did he live at the home? Does he still live there? Was he adopted?"

"No. He have a home. Always did. He lived next to mine."

Danny slowly curled into a ball, gazing at his own stockinged feet as though they were the most interesting things in the world. Vlad hesitated.

The look on the boy's face...

He's only a child,

his conscience whispered. _Better just to leave him alone, now. Don't make him relive more then he wants to._

But he was not a man particularly used to hearing his conscience, and was not particularly pleased to hear it once again. And so-

"Why don't you live there anymore? With your best friend?"

Now, Danny was getting scary inside. He tucked himself into a tighter ball on the chair, looking at the flames in the fireplace, but seeing them in another place, entirely...

"Because Mommy and Daddy no want me anymore," the child heard himself say hoarsely. "They leave me."

He tried to say this coolly enough, like Dash could say things that weren't or maybe were just a little bit true.

But his parents HAD gone-beyond where he could follow. And so, Danny started to cry once again, hot tears burning his eyes as they crept down his face, and this time, he started sobbing; terrible, ragged sobs, the likes of which he'd seemed dried out of in the day, but so much like the ones that appeared on his damp pillowcase in the morning, that came out when he was sleeping, when he was holding still.

Danny wept, and again, Vlad jumped up, more at a loss then ever. Danny's sobs slowly started to rise in pitch, and the boy sounded near hysterics. Loathing himself, feeling shame burning his insides, he immediately flew to the boy's side, but hesitated again.

Oh, what did he do, what did he do? This was terrible. Absolutely awful. He only had himself to thank-they'd been having such a nice time before he had to spoil it all! Daniel would leave here in tears, would never want to see him again, would hate him...

Vlad's hands slowly found their way to Danny's arms again, and the man exhaled. He'd done this before-just today. Telling himself not to be a coward, Vlad carefully lifted the child much as he'd done just an hour or so ago, and slowly settled back into the chair, hand cupping the back of the boy's head, even as his crying continued.

"Shhhh. Shhh-oh, for the love of...cry as much as you want to, dear boy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Danny's wails increased, and Vlad found himself sadly staring into space as he smoothed and caressed the child's spiky hair, finding it easier then he'd expected it to be.

But this was the end. The child would want nothing more to do with him. And he certainly did not resent him for it. He'd hurt him. But this wasn't simple sadness. It was Grief.

He'd endured that for too long in silence, and his capacity to cry had long since dried up with half of his humanity. And Daniel...

Vlad fondly glanced down at the child, and bent down to murmur quietly in the boy's ears, cupping Daniel's red face.

...this child would NOT grow up to be like him. He was too warm to freeze over; too bubbly and feeling to become a statue. No. Even if he had to cry every single day, even if crying alone scarcely solved a thing, the boy deserved his tears.

Hadn't he had enough taken from him as it was? A heart couldn't grow anything good if it wasn't watered by the occasional tear. HIS heart was...

...well, he'd thrown that one away a long time ago. Bygones.

The billionaire leaned back in his seat, hugging Danny as he stared up at the ceiling, still absentmindedly stroking.

'Left Behind?' What did the child mean? Had his parents simply _abandoned _the boy? Vlad felt a bitter tinge of acid burn against the back of his throat. He'd get the full story eventually, but in the meantime...

His hold around the child tightened, and Vlad braced himself for the next wave of tears.

* * *

_*Sighs.* Poor Danny. Even if this chapter was (again) moving rather slowly...at least we saw a little more of the plot this time. Can't all be sunshine and roses! Vlad's a bit of a jerk...for many reasons, which I'll explain later on. We've got some trouble looming up ahead, folks, so sit tight for right now!_


End file.
